Aden's breath came in ragged bursts as he narrowly dodged a sweeping strike. The gladiator was relentless, pressing forward with brutal efficiency. His shield deflected every attempt Aden made to land a solid hit, while his short swords lashed out like fangs, forcing Aden back step by step.
He was losing. Fast.
The temple's dim, shifting light cast elongated shadows across the ruined hall. The air pulsed with unseen energy, and Aden could feel the weight of the temple pressing down on him. It was alive, reacting. The Overseer's influence was tightening like a noose, and if he didn't turn things around soon, he'd be another corpse left to rot in these forsaken ruins.
The gladiator lunged again, shield raised, sword flashing towards Aden's ribs. He barely twisted away, feeling the edge graze his side. Too close.
Adapt, or die.
Aden's mind raced. The temple had been trying to kill him from the moment he stepped foot inside. The shifting walls, the collapsing floors, the spike traps hidden in the stone—he had spent the last few hours barely avoiding its tricks. But what if…
What if he used them?
He risked a glance at the ground. The patterns on the stone. The slight indentations. The barely perceptible hum beneath his feet. Triggers. The temple's defenses weren't random—they were designed to control movement, to funnel intruders into kill zones. But the gladiator wasn't an intruder.
Which means the temple wouldn't spare him either.
Aden took a deep breath and shifted his stance. Instead of fighting head-on, he started retreating—not in panic, but with careful steps, leading the gladiator toward a section of the hall where he had nearly been impaled by spears minutes ago.
The warrior's aggression only grew. Sensing weakness, he surged forward, shield raised high, swords flashing.
Aden twisted, barely dodging a downward strike, and slammed his palm against a barely visible sigil on the wall.
The temple responded.
A deep rumble shook the chamber. The floor beneath the gladiator shifted. The warrior, mid-stride, had no time to react as a hidden section collapsed under him. He fell, just barely catching the edge with his shield hand, swords slipping from his grasp into the abyss below.
Aden didn't hesitate. He stomped down on the fingers gripping the ledge. The gladiator's grip faltered—but he wasn't done yet. With sheer brute force, he pulled himself up with his remaining hand, throwing a dagger from his boot in one desperate motion.
Aden ducked just in time, the blade grazing past his ear. The gladiator had climbed halfway up, his shield discarded, one hand clawing at the ledge.
Aden had seconds. He scanned the walls and spotted a faint crack in the stone near the edge. Another trap.
He didn't think—he moved.
He slammed his foot against the cracked stone. The temple groaned in response, and a hidden mechanism activated. From the wall, a massive stone pillar shot out, smashing directly into the gladiator's torso, sending him hurtling into the abyss below.
Aden stumbled back, panting. The chamber fell silent.
The gladiator was gone.
He had done it. He had turned the temple's own deathtraps against his enemy. But the realization that followed made his stomach tighten.
If I can do this… so can the Overseer.
The temple wasn't just reacting. It was learning.
Aden clenched his fists. He had won this battle, but the war was far from over.
And now, they knew he was adapting.